The Last Man on Earth: An Idea So Insane It Just Has to Work

The Last Man on Earth is, understandably, a tough sell. Set aside the existential anguish of yet another post-apocalypse scenario, or the inherently limited stories to tell about just one guy. Do you really want to tune in, week after week, to spend time with Phil Miller—a guy riding out the post-apocalypse with a ratty sweatshirt, enormous beard, and an attitude more nihilistic by the minute?

Lucky for audiences, and for FOX, which debuts the show on Sunday, the last man on earth is played by Will Forte. A Saturday Night Live veteran who has provenrepeatedly he’ll do anything for a laugh, Forte also carries with him an air of fundamental goodness, an almost mournful sense that he’s the last good man on earth. That quality is crucial in the early going of The Last Man on Earth, which revels in Phil’s anarchic loneliness before watching him spiral into self-abuse and general loathing. There’s an anxious sense that something has to change—no show can be built around a guy who bathes in and drinks out of a kiddie pool with tequila, funny as the image is—but Forte, a marvel, keeps us from fleeing. We know that Phil can do the right thing, and that he knows he can do the right thing—if only he can figure out what the hell it is.

The first two episodes of Last Man on Earth, which air back to back on Sunday, play a constantly escalating game of “How long can this last?” and come up with surprising, funny answers every time. How long can he enjoy pilfering priceless paintings and moving right into the nicest house on the block? How long can he live alone before giving up? And, most crucially, how long can this show seriously be just about one guy?

Well, that’d be spoiling things, and one of the many pleasures of Last Man on Earth is in genuinely not knowing where things will go next, even by the end of the second episode. Series executive producers Phil Lord and Chris Miller have reveled in painting themselves into those kinds of corners throughout their brief and wildly successful careers, whether adapting a low-key children’s book into the buoyant Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs or making two hits out of the profoundly bad idea of a 21 Jump Street movie. They’ve earned faith in their risky ideas, and Last Man on Earth both deserves and needs that patience—it rewards the gamble that goes into watching it while also sometimes threatening to skid entirely off the rails.

The tone of the first few episodes varies wildly, often to lovely results—Phil’s flirtation with a mannequin is hilarious until it’s heartbreaking—but sometimes frustrating ones, an over-reliance on masturbation jokes seeming to fill time before the next great gag. The jokes come quick and breathless, and by the time a series of grammar jokes hit at the beginning of the second episode it’s clear Last Man on Earth will be as simultaneously witty and dumb as Lord and Miller’s best efforts. But that rangy energy, combined with the risky premise, feels nervous; how long can anything go on throwing every joke at the wall while pretending the plot thread will run out at any minute ?

Then again, 30 Rock started out with the same jitters, and eventually felt like a weekly miracle as something almost too funny to be on television. Last Man on Earth has every element in place to do the same thing. And in this post-Parks and Recreation world, it’s one of precious few examples left of network television comedy that feels bracingly, almost nerve-rackingly new. From the guys who brought you MacGruber and 22 Jump Street, here’s one more idea so insane that it just has to work.